Elder Tale: A Story of Log Horizon
by Forkive
Summary: Wander could handle waking up in the world of Elder Tales. A veteran player, he knew the game inside and out. But when a sightseeing excursion turns into a Hidden Quest, Wander is launched back to Lv. 1 in a class he knows nothing about. Now what? Almost entirely OC cast, written for my fun and yours. Definitely OP, but with a handicap. T for potential language. MCs will appear.
1. Lv 0: An Elder Tale

_So, I have a TA period in the registrar's office at my school. That office just so happens to have a high-end typewriter, and I couldn't resist playing with it. Time passed, and eventually I had a couple of chapters to a Log Horizon fanfiction. So, here's the prologue!_

_I do not own Log Horizon or any associated media in any way, shape or form. All Log Horizon content is copyright of Mamare Touno. _

* * *

...He had fallen through the hidden ways, above the darkness and below the curtains of light-tumbled out of time and place, then dropped right back in again. A hundred years, a hundred hours, a hundred passing moments; Who could tell how long it had been? Suspended in the realm of the lost, he'd seen everything... If he could only just remember...

But that didn't matter now. What mattered was that he'd found the key. Or, had it found him? The Arcana, hidden within the binary. It was of an unimaginable importance, and perhaps one day he'd recall why...

He awoke on the thirteenth day after the Apocalypse. That was when it all began.

ELDER TALE: A STORY OF LOG HORIZON

* * *

_I think that's dramatic. Don't you think that's dramatic? Read on, dear reader, read on!_

_Anyway, I'm no scholar on Log Horizon, but I've been watching the show faithfully, and done my research on class mechanics, the like. If there's anything I screw up on, let me know, and I'll "author magic" my way out of it somehow._


	2. Lv 1: Profile Restoration

_You thought I'd leave you with just that? No, this is a two-for-one special! Enjoy the official first chapter of Elder Tale (an extremely clever variation of Elder Tales, in which the series is set). Remember, whether you like it or not, review, so I can make it even better next time!_

_I do not own or claim ownership of anything that is or is related to Log Horizon, besides an internet connection with which to watch said franchise. Log Horizon is property of Mamare Touno and his merry band of associates._

* * *

Wander snapped awake, and knew immediately where he was. At first.

Strange, flowering lizards clambered up mighty oaks, clinging to ages-old moss and long-defunct power lines. Here and there, a briar weasel dug in the wreckage of office parks, scavenging according to its own, inscrutable sensibilities. In the distant sky, some variant of lesser dragon wheeled in it's dance-like hunting patterns, spinning like a fantastical winged dolphin between sleepy mountains of cloud and the faint outlines of skyscrapers. Yes, Wander was in the middle of the Apocalypse.

That's what his friends had said it was called, anyway. The moment when, instead of logging into the Novasphere Pioneers expansion to Elder Tales, every player worldwide had found themselves inside the very game they had all been trying to log into. Lovespotions and Ironsides, in Wander's party at the time, had tried to log out, contact a GM, and slap themselves awake before sending desperate messages to everyone on their friend list. They'd all said the same thing: No way out, no idea what was going on. In a panic, they dumped their stock of potions onto him and set off to the nearest city for answers. Wander, though, felt nothing but excitement. He'd been planning the expedition for weeks, and it was certainly a wondrous surprise to be able to experience his destination in person. Just over the next ridge, and he'd see-

"See... See what?"

Now Wander became concerned. What had been the expedition? Had he arrived at his destination? And, looking around more carefully... Where was he? The adventurer concentrated, trying to sort past his confusion and get a hold on things. His friends had departed to... Athens? Where the hell were they going that Athens was their city of choice? Europe... No, more Mediterranean. Somewhere like... "AH, SHIT!"

Pain shot through Wander's every neuron and crashed against the inside of his skull, knocking him backwards and paralyzing him utterly. It felt like his brain had first been put through a cheese grater, then left to warp in the sun-and now, some five year old was jamming the pieces back together again. Images blew across his vision like hurricane debris: A massive dragon, crashing through ancient buildings; Radiant spheres of fire and darkness; Mountains of gold, and a door that rocked silently open. The sword, shimmering, suspended in empty space above...

The pain stopped, as suddenly as it had arrived. Gasping, Wander steadied himself against a tree. "The hell was that all about?"

Apparently, he'd made it, wherever he was going, and there was a lot of treasure there. Some kind of magic sword? Grasping at whatever he could get, Wander pulled up the menu, watching expectantly as the panels materialized in his vision. He was about to select inventory, when he noticed a message flashing at the bottom of his sight.

"From Elder Tales? I hope it's not a ban or anything." Wander paused. "Can I even be banned anymore? Anyways, 'Recipient: Wander. Subject: The Arcana.' Arcana?" He blinked, then read on. "'Wander: On May 6th, 2018, you activated a Hidden Quest, 'Arcana.' Due to this, your previous character has been... Overwritten? Please allow up to three hours for profile restoration?!'" Wander, now in a cold sweat, blindly opened his Status page, and cried in shock.

"What is this!? 'Race, Half-Alv. Subclass, none. Class, Arcanist.' What the hell is that supposed to mean!? 'Level...'"

Wander was level 1. 0 experience, level 1. Countless hours of questing, battling, wandering, all just... Gone. Reset. Level 1. He had to start all over, now. A whole new beginning, in a whole new, dangerous... Fascinating world.

The adventurer, lost, confused, angry, and-perhaps-just a little excited, began to wander towards the far-off city skyline.

* * *

_Well, it looks like he's getting over things rather quickly. Don't worry, this won't be an amnesiac protagonist. I just wanted a chance to explain what's going on, because it's all pretty non-canon. I'm going to see if I can manage some action next chapter, so hang on to your chainmail! Or, something like that._

_Forkive out._


	3. Lv 2: Quest Accepted

_AHA! Bet you didn't expect to have a 3000 word update already! As I've said, much of the material for these first few chapters had been written in advance. Nonetheless, this chapter is entirely new material-necessary in light of edits I made to the plot, but totally surprising in every other way! _

_As always, the author of Log Horizon is Mamare Touno, and all associated media is owned by him and his associates, with whom I cannot in any way claim membership. If I lie, may goblins attack my neighborhood and force me to bust out some martial arts on them._

* * *

"Look, sir," the colorfully dressed Lander merchant insisted, "We really don't have anything to spare! Apples are the only things high enough off the ground to avoid the goblin raids. I haven't had a decent loaf of bread in days!" He gestured to a pile of rotting apple cores in the back corner of his stall, now about the size of a small child. "Now, if you'd accept the damn quest, and get rid of them for us, I could probably get some REAL food!"

"I told you, I can't kill a for full of goblins without some kind of weapon! If you'd just lend me that sword on your wall-"

"That sword is literally our town's only defense against the goblins. You take that, and not even the apples will be safe! I'd gladly give it to you once the village is safe from goblin attacks."

"This is ridiculous!" Wander shouted, more at the situation than the merchant himself. "I can't beat the goblins unless you give me the sword, and you can't give me the sword unless I beat the goblins!"

"And in the meantime, we're ALL stuck eating apples." Merchant and adventurer collapsed with an exasperated groan onto the stall counter, and contemplated how much longer they could bear the stench of rotting fruit until they both ended up on the road.

Pattonville, where Wander had ended up after a couple hours of intentful walking, was a meager hamlet built into the rubble of former suburbia. Up until a week ago, it had been a peaceful place, where new players on the North American server could acquire their starting equipment and train on low-level quests before heading into the big cities via conveniently-located warpgates just a half a mile away from the town hall. Unfortunately, a troop of goblins, taking advantage of the Apocalypse to occupy Fort McHenry, a former National Guard base, had waylaid all shipments moving along the main road, and begun making mischief in surrounding villages. With most adventurers busy adapting to their new situation, and the Thirteen Chivalric Orders missing in action, nobody could be bothered to assist a forgettable settlement of People of the Land.

Wander had, with the help of the EXP potions that now appeared in his inventory daily, managed to reach Lv 5 simply by running menial fetch-quests for the residents of Pattonville, including the shopkeeper who provided discount apples for helpful adventurers. Without weaponry, however, Wander was unable to deal with the goblins, and had thus been stuck for the past two days eating only apples and EXP potions.

Taking a deep breath, Wander made eye contact with the merchant. "Look, merchant-can I call you merchant? I'm getting desperate here. If you just give me any old piece of equipment you've got laying around here, I'll take the quest. Maybe I'll, I don't know, beat the goblins to death. Does that sound good?"

The merchant paused, then glanced at the back corner of his stall. "Call me Elias, and if you take those apple cores with you, then you've got yourself a deal."

* * *

Which was how Wander had ended up with a sack of rotting fruit and a worn leather helmet, which he had put on his hand like an antique boxing glove. He wasn't sure that it was going to be at all effective against real, live goblins, but he'd figured it would be better than flailing the sack of apple cores. Now, as he approached the main road, spotting crude goblin flags waving some distance away, Wander walked a little faster, and reviewed his plan.

Using the fruit as a distraction, he would climb over the degenerate concrete walls of the fort, searching for a weapon of any sort to use against his foes. If that failed, he would find a high point along the perimeter, jumping down upon any goblin that happened to stray beneath him and knocking it out with the helmet before stealthily pummeling it into submission. Hopefully, his raw strength, impromptu armament, and stat boost from the EXP potion would let him take down enough to reach another level. He would then retreat, repeating the process until he was strong enough to take down the Goblin Chief, ending the quest and giving him access to some proper food.

If this had truly been some weird manifestation of the video game Elder Tales, Wander wouldn't have been able to use the helmet as anything more than a helmet, sponging up attacks like a proper piece of armor, but Wander had long begun to suspect that the Apocalypse had brought him somewhere else entirely. For one thing, if Wander had been somewhere in the Middle East on his quest, then it would have been impossible to jump all the way to North America. Continents in-game hadn't just been separated by distance-their data was held on disparate servers, which did not communicate directly with any other server. Long-distance travel would have required an extremely complicated and expensive process, which Wander supposed was just another of the things he'd forgotten in the reboot of his account.

For another, apple cores shouldn't have been possible in the game-world. Items, when consumed, simply disappeared. Yet, Wander had eaten the fruit just like he would back home, and not through a menu command. This world clearly ran according to an immensely detailed set of physical laws, one which would have required countless billions of exacting programming to properly execute. Lastly, the way he'd been interacting with the People of the Land was far too real. Landers, as he'd called them back in his gaming days, were supposed to be NPCs, incapable of complex speech and independent behavior. Yet, all of the Landers Wander had encountered had proven independent people, capable of frustration, concern, and the pursuit of their own interests. Either the company behind Elder Tales had created a program capable of passing the Turing Test for artificial sentience, or the Landers were just as much human as Wander was. In which case, what was the Apocalypse? Had the creators of the game been dabbling in transdimensional teleportation, or had a parallel universe somehow transposed itself upon his own, swallowing the players as points of shared information between the two...

Ah, shit. While he'd been daydreaming, a goblin had snuck up on him. So much for stealth.

Wander sidestepped the monsters ferocious lunge, wincing as it sailed inches away from his unprotected left side. Instinct took over, and he threw a roundhouse kick at the Goblin's back. With a surprised grunt, it went sprawling in the dirt, losing about half of its health in the process. Wander supposed he'd been taking martial arts before the Apocalypse, because he could tell that his attack was both instinctual and called a roundhouse kick. Before the goblin could get up again, Wander lifted it by a leg and flung it into the fortress wall, which it hit with a satisfying crunch. Wander, not willing to give the monster a chance to counterattack, got a running start before driving his foot into its knobbly green face. The goblin shattered like a piñata of exp and gold.

Before he could soak in his remarkable victory, however, Wander spotted what must have been the entire troop of goblins pouring through the fortress gates to meet him. With a start, he tossed his sack of apple cores in their general direction, hoping to at least distract them while he fled. Majestic as an eagle, and odorous as a heap of compost, the sack flew in a majestic arc toward the approaching army of diminutive green death.

Luckily, it fell short of his intended target, instead spilling rotten fruit all over the ground in front of the feet of the advancing horde. Many in the leading edge simply fell flat on their faces, tripping up the goblins behind them in an unexpected, but very welcome, domino effect of pure win. Wander didn't even care that it probably counted as littering. After watching a good number of goblins die simply under the weight and weapons of their peers, and observing a number of in-tribe squabbles develop, the adventurer decided that he probably wasn't going to find a better time to begin his attack. Sprinting towards the infighting horde, Wander leapt right into the middle of it, stomping on many a-helmet and taking out a few more foes in the process as he made his way over to the fortress gates. Leaving the sound of goblin battle cries behind him, he rounded the corner and dashed into Fort McHenry.

* * *

With the entirety of its occupants engaged in the brawl outside, the fort was abandoned. As Wander seemed to recall, goblins never did have a mind for the nuances of strategic thought. In fact, Wander hoped that once their chief had been defeated, the rest of the goblins would either flee or fight themselves into oblivion. He also hoped that, with all the supplies this troop had stolen from passing caravans, he would find at least one weapon with which to slay the boss.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the goblins had broken everything there was to be broken, and spoiled everything else. Fort McHenry was relatively small and linear, so Wander could inspect each room as he ran by; and all he saw were empty boxes and tear-jerkingly spoiled plates of food. With an anguished sigh, he continued towards the fort's central corridor, until he at last reached a heavy oak door, surrounded with dramatically broken boxes and goblin skulls. Clearly, the boss's chamber.

Wander stopped inches from the iron door handle. It felt like he'd just been blown along with the course of events, and he'd been fine with that-at least, he hadn't thought about it. Since that first encounter with the goblin, Wander had acted on gaming instincts and the Elder Tales equivalent of adrenaline, but he wasn't just playing a game, or running a sport. This was life and death. What would happen if he lost? Would he wake up in a cathedral somewhere, or would death bring him back to his original world? Even worse-would dying in this place mean dying for good? He could stay with Elias, the merchant, and pick apples for the adventurers who came along. And, of course, they would come along. Adventurers always did. He could just bide his time, leveling patiently on fetch-quests and EXP potions, until this whole thing was figured out and he could continue with his life. Why give that up in the name of a quest he didn't want to complete, for some people he wasn't even sure were real?

Wander began to laugh at himself. It was sudden, loud, and he wasn't entirely sure why he was doing it. The thought of simply giving up, though, just seemed so ridiculous; What kind of guy would name his character Wander, lose everything for a Hidden Quest, storm an entire fortress of goblins at Lv 5 with nothing but a helmet and a sack of apple cores, then just give up because he was scared of a fight? This was stupid, and rash, and likely to get him killed. It was entirely illogical, and it was the kind of thing that a good parent would have scolded him thoroughly for.

Wander opened the door.

* * *

The room had once been a chapel, it seemed. An altar rested at the back of the room, and benches were piled up against walls. There was a beautiful rose window, close to the elevated ceiling, that admitted enough light to illuminate the goblin chief, twice Wander's height and waiting patiently a dozen feet from the door.

At least, until Wander opened said door.

As soon as it detected an adventurer, the chief rushed him furiously, swinging a chipped steak knife like a five-year old with a flag. Regardless of technique, it was strong. Even after Wander sidestepped it, like before, and it crashed headlong into a wall, the goblin chief's health was barely affected. It wheeled around and charged again, clipping Wander with an errant strike and dropping him down to critical health. He could not afford to make another mistake.

Searching for some way to defeat this menace unarmed, the adventurer ran in front of one of the benches and waited. As the chief charged, he rolled between its legs, and, once it tripped headlong into another wall, kicked viciously at the monster's shins. Though Wander was proud of his strategy, the goblin simply flipped over and made another swing at him. Desperate to dodge and, well, not be dead, the adventurer stumbled backwards and fell flat on his backside, hearing his head hit stone with a startlingly loud crack. As he groaned and attempted to count backwards from ten, the goblin advanced on its now-immobilized prey. By the time Wander had reached seven, it had already picked him up, and was ready to bite him in two.

Wander shoved his helmet right between the monster's looming jaws.

Finding a disappointingly fat-free snack where it had expected a much more substantial morsel to be, the goblin chief staggered backwards, dropping the adventurer and gagging upon tough leather. The adventurer, in turn, unsteadily got to his feet. Though his foe was weakened, he was by no means close to victory. The apple cores were gone; the sack was gone; benches were broken; even his trusty leather helmet-glove was now being swallowed down a gigantic green gullet. Out of options, Wander did the only thing he could think of.

"Six, five, four, three, two... One. That'll have to do." The goblin had somehow gotten the tough leather armor into its stomach, and was not turning to face him one last time. He could still retreat-but he knew that he never would.

"Alright, you ugly green bastard. Come and get me! HIIYAAA!" Wander screamed and charged at his opponent.

"GUOOARR!" The goblin screamed and charged back at him.

The two met in the middle of the chamber, where the goblin chief swung his weapon and Wander swung nothing but his defiance and adventurer's pride.

Something flashed cerulean, and the goblin chief exploded.

"AAAaaa... What?" He looked around, wondering if his foe had somehow jumped into the rafters, or been slain by a timely passing adventurer. But there was no-one in the room but him. "What just happened?"

Wander looked down, expecting an empty fist, but seeing something else entirely.

He was holding a blue, crystal sword. It shone with both the glimmering, joyous light of the mediterranean sea and the ponderous radiance of the summer sky, weighing nothing in his hand and weighing heavily on his mind. It seemed so familiar...

"Oh, THAT'S right. That's what I was doing in the Middle East." With no goblins coming through the door, and the window casting a rose-colored circle on the floor, Wander sat down and remembered what he'd done in the first days of the Apocalypse.

* * *

_Is crazy, yes? Though I was playing around with the concept before, using in-game items in creative ways is not an idea exclusive to me by any means. In addition to cooking, episode 10 of the anime depicts a prototype steam engine, something not present within the game itself. If Crescent Moon can make a burger, why can't Wander use a helmet as a boxing glove, and a sack of apple cores as an impromptu projectile? Of course, in the franchise, a certain minimum subclass level is required to improvise things like that, but Wander, as we will shortly see, is a special case._

_As for his transdimensional rant, the course of Wander's somewhat resembles my own. As a fanfiction writer, my job is to fill in the blanks wherever I can, and the way in which Adventurers have ended up in the world of Elder Tales is, for now, a huge mystery. Venturing into the realm of crack-fiction, I hypothesized that two parallel universes, already entangled by observation in the form of a video game, were brought into even closer contact by a catastrophic magic on the part of their universe, and the game expansion on the part of ours. During this period of overlap, players who logged in, rather than transferring data to this entangled universe, transferred either their physical bodies or consciousnesses to the other universe, either collapsing into a coma or disappearing outright from ours. _

_This would require a universe exactly identical to Elder Tales, not only in physical law, but in its course of events, hosting a strange group of Adventurers who can resurrect at Cathedrals, level up, and are, one-for-one, identical to the players who design accounts and interact in the game version of Elder tales. The actions of said adventurers would have to correspond exactly, in real time, to the actions of the players in our universe, and every randomized outcome must also be exactly the same. _

_Of course, this scenario is almost impossible, but with an infinite amount of parallel universes-and an infinite number of histories for each universe-such an outcome is not completely impossible, particularly if said outcome is part of a work of fiction written by an author with imagination. Indeed, within the original novel series, certain characters have already drawn up theories behind the mechanics of resurrection and magic, and there have reportedly been two other catastrophic, world-altering magics in Elder Tales' history. These have been labeled "World Fractions," and have significantly affected the course of events in the Elder Tales universe_

_For more on this technical mumbo-jumbo, you can check out the Log Horizon Wiki, which hosts articles and specific novel references: _

_ wiki/Spirit_Theory_

_ wiki/World_Fraction_

_ wiki/Ri_Gan_

_..._

_Enough with theorizing. Up next: What was Wander doing on the first days of the Apocalypse? What's going on with the goblins outside Fort McHenry? And what is this mysterious, adjective-errific sword that seems to have come out of nowhere? Next time, on "Elder Tale: A Story of Log Horizon. Lv. 3: Day One."_

_In the meantime, tell me what you think-Review! _

_~Forkive out!_


	4. Lv 3: Flashback Initiated

_Welcome back, you readers, you! Today, I'm proud to present... A flashback! That's just how the writing came out. Though I have a specific plot structure in mind, the details kind of make themselves up as I go along. Thanks for going along with them! _

_Mamare Touno, author and professional that he is, holds dominion over Log Horizon and all its associated media. He has delegated his reign to all of his associates, of whom I cannot truthfully claim to be a member. I'd rather fight a thanatotic dragon than claim otherwise._

* * *

Virtual tourism. That's where it started. Wander, at that time a Lv. 90 Monk/Artisan, had banded together with Ironsides, a Guardian/Fortune-Teller, and Lovespotions, a Druid/Alchemist, to start up a virtual tourism company inside Elder Tales. They'd charge gold to escort people around the North American server, sharing the sights and stories of ruined landmarks and repurposed natural wonders. They were looking for a way to celebrate their unexpected success when Lovespotions' brother, an exec with Elder Tales, offered to move their character data to another server. So, the three had gone on holiday in the Mediterranean-just in time for the Apocalypse.

Suddenly stranded in the last place they'd logged out, the northwest of Israel, Wander's two friends dropped everything and, after failing to log out, tried the "Return Home" spell in hopes of literally returning home. Instead, they ended up at the last city they'd visited-Athens.

Ironsides had implored Wander to teleport and meet them at the Parthenon, but Wander would have none of it. After almost reaching the end of the vacation, he was determined to see the thing through to the end. It wasn't as if it would take very long, anyway. Tel Megiddo, was hardly more than a hill of ruins stacked upon each other. Unless some random raid-boss was waiting for him there, he'd be back in Athens before sundown.

_Fact:_ Tel Megiddo, translated into Greek, is Armageddon.

_Fact:_ Tel Megiddo has been designated for thousands of years as the site of the end of the world.

_Fact:_ A raid-boss was most definitely waiting for him there.

Wander hid beneath a palm frond and gazed in awe upon one of the most terrifying creatures he'd ever seen-a dragon of shadow and flame, radiating death and unbridled rage. This was going to require a bit of work.

Drawing off his collection of combat rations, the adventurer observed his primal foe for hours, recording stats when it passed by its low-flying circuit around the hill and darting to avoid drops of magma spilling from its wings. Never getting close enough to risk discovery, he finally advanced when, at sunset, it somehow slipped into a small door at the base of the ruins. Winding away like fog...

Wander had an idea. Though no adventurer would ever be able to beat that thing alone, perhaps a clever Artisan could.

* * *

He spent the next couple of days preparing the next stage of his plan, working by night and taking careful notes by day. Calculating size, dimensions, rate of regeneration, and approximate density, creating trials with various bated piles of deer, and getting what little sleep he could all the while, Wander was ready by sunup on the third day after the Apocalypse. Tiptoeing in the shadow of Tel Megiddo, Wander collected himself and began the first step towards his victory.

"HEY, LIZARD-BRAIN! YOUR MOM'S SO FAT... Um..." He paused. "Your mom's so fat, that she... Uh... You know what? Never mind. SHOW YOURSELF!"

The doors began to glow, and Wander flung himself to the side. With the roar of a jet engine, a river of fire exploded from the hillside, so intense that it took points off his health from a few feet away. Before its last embers had settled, something else began to follow it into the open air. Rippling like a malevolent fog, the dragon flowed onto the grass of the field, solidifying upon contact with the first rays of the sun. Cold as a blood-blackened diamond, with obsidian claws and formless, pitch-black wings, it continued to grow once beyond its lair, billowing outward like a miasma loosened upon the world. Eyes like pits fixated upon the hapless adventurer who had disturbed it, while fire dribbled from its ebony fangs.

All as Wander had planned.

The dragon howled in alarm as one hundred and four points of honed, barbed steel sunk into its not-quite solid hide. Eleven were enchanted, four were superb Alv works, and the remaining eighty nine were coated in everything from frost potions to nightshade extract, and even a single vial of the Hydra's mystical, exponentially virulent venom. Continuing to grow, it attempted to charge Wander and be done with it, but it found itself unable to move without digging the blades deeper within its flesh. It contorted and thrashed, but a sturdy metal cage of repurposed armor constricted its movement entirely, holding fast as its almost-substantial prisoner struggled to reach its full size.

It was, Wander decided, one of his finest creations: a harness, fitted to 7/8ths of the dragon's proper dimensions and lined on the interior with every implement of death he could scavenge from the ruins. Each band of steel dug into the hypothetical joints of the dragon's anatomy, restricting all but the feeblest of movements while the steel yet held. The more its prisoner thrashed, the closer the blades dug to the creature's wicked heart, and to a complete and total victory. Though an impossibility in normal gameplay, he'd created the contraption through a loophole in the Artisan class: If he considered it art, then, by golly, it was art. Wander had come up with a name and everything: "Dragon Trap + Dragon." As long as it held, this fight was going to be a breeze.

The ominous creaking of the Dragon Trap + Dragon reminded him that his setup would not, in fact, hold for much longer.

"That's my cue." Wander darted past his foe to the side of Tel Megiddo and began to clamber up to a ledge on its side. Before he could consider the stupidity of his plan, he leapt across the empty air and onto the dragon's heaving backside.

It was pretty disgusting. Still attempting to solidify, the creature's flesh bubbled outward like a giant, scaly pizza of evil, and threatened to engulf Wander's feet when he stood still for too long. lava popped from gigantic, ill-defined arteries, and it was only when some of it set his boot on fire that he remembered to take that potion of fire resistance. Like an explorer in a swamp of primeval dragon soup, Wander waded towards the creature's still hazy wings and took a firm hold of the left one.

"This better work, Lovespotions, or I will send you to the cathedral myself. Do your thing, Potion of Celestial Wrath!"

With a burst of alchemically-enhanced strength, ripped the wing out of the dragon's back, which spewed magma skywards and set the dragon a-howling once more.

"And for good measure-TIGER ECHO FIST... Wing. TIGER ECHO FIST-WING!" With a roar of his own, Wander smashed the wing downwards, combining the attack with one of his monk skills to devastating effect. Shockwave alone threw him back into the hillside, and sent his erstwhile weapon flying in the opposite direction. But the damage had been done-"Tiger Echo Wing" had blown a crater into his foe, which now staggered and, with a murderous rumble, fell to its knees.

"Hah! Serves you right..." A chill spread from Wander's stomach to his every limb, draining the rush of energy he'd just been enjoying and bringing a new status, disarmed, to his attention. Hazily, he recalled the description Lovespotions had given him. "Septuples attack for seven seconds, but no attacking for seven minutes afterwards. Right." Pushing himself upright, Wander sat back to enjoy watching the dragon die. Between the DoT, uprooted wing, and surprisingly powerful attack, his foe was down to critical health.

Reassured by the dragon's rumbles of pain, Wander began to consider his plans for after the battle. Grab the loot, search the ruins, nab a few artifacts, take a nap. Maybe paint a commemorative portrait. Then, it would be off to Athens and the Parthenon. If the trap still held, then he could just wait... He looked up, and scrapped his plans for a nap. The trap was long broken, and things had gone from very, very good to very, very bad, very, very quickly.

Finding itself unable to resume a properly solid form, and driven into critical health by a single adventurer, the dragon had forsaken physical form altogether, and was now a creature of living shadow and flame. Before Wander's eyes, it billowed outward in all directions, blotting the light of the sun with a single, terrible wing. Fire raged across a body better understood for where they did not exist than where they did. It's maw loomed like a hole in the sky, leading not to a cavern of flesh, but the void behind the shadow of the moon. Sparks billowed from the space where nostrils should have been, and its eyes, one of crystaline ember and the other of stygian iron, trailed crimson light and pure shadow with their every move. It was fire and death...

Falling like hailstones, every sword he'd taken so much trouble to get inside of the dragon hit the ground with an resigned clatter, finding nothing substantial in which to bury themselves. Physical attacks wouldn't work any more. Magical attacks would have been nice, but Wander was a Monk-he didn't have any magic attacks. Perhaps that wing he'd ripped out could've done some damage, but that was long gone. In fact, all attacks were out of the question to begin with-Celestial Fury still had him Disarmed.

Not at all in a hurry, the dragon loomed over its defenseless prey. It had been chained, stabbed, walked in-beaten with its own wing, for crying out loud!-but now things were finally right. The dragon eats the Adventurer, and returns to its hidden hoard, making all well with the world. Wander watched as, with a triumphant, thanatotic grace, the dragon bared its fangs and prepared to erase him once and for all. He'd gotten so close, and he was going to fail because he'd overlooked a single, stupid detail. If only he'd set up magic DoT instead of all those stupid poisons...

The raid-boss froze as Wander began to laugh. It pulled back, and stared at him with what seemed to be bewilderment. Why was this beaten, helpless, soon to be dead hero laughing?

Wander was most forthcoming.

"The Hydra's mystical, exponentially virulent venom. Magic DoT."

Without a sound, the dragon of fire and death collapsed into a flurry of experience and gold. Wander got to his feet, breathing shakily, and descended Tel Megiddo to gather it.

He still couldn't understand everything that had just happened. He'd fought raid-bosses before, but monsters were different in person than they were locked safely behind a monitor. Besides, that creature had been more powerful than anything he'd ever seen, and he'd been giving tours across the entire North American server for years-even from a distance, it had washed the fear of mortality through his very bones. Was it possible to die in this world? He'd had a feeling that, even if a normal boss would send him back to the cathedral, that dragon promised nothing but oblivion. Perhaps there really was something more to Tel Megiddo than a couple of artifacts and a photo op.

At the base of the hill, in a circle of burnt grass and blasted earth, three unexpected treasures awaited him: the dragon's two eyes, and a key-shaped bone. Curious, but Wander was never the type to question extra loot. Tossing the items in his inventory, he turned to face the doors to the ruins, which still glowed with the heat of dragon fire.

"More fire. Wonderful." Wander swallowed another fire resistance potion, and strode into the hillside.

* * *

He was still inside Tel Megiddo an hour later. Modern archaeology had suggested 26 layers of ruins, but Wander counted far more than that, and he hadn't even started at the top! The architecture varied from ancient Israelite to ancient Alv to... Was that the wing of a spaceship? All of it piled atop each other, and crowded around the circular staircase that led him downward. All of their entrances were sealed, though, and adorned with keyholes completely unlike the key he'd earned from his fight. An immense pit ran from the surface to the bottom of Tel Megiddo, where a strange blue light shone through the entire chamber, but Wander did not feel particularly inclined to jump. So, down the stairs he had gone.

"Why," Wander questioned, "did the programmers put so much damn work into such a random dungeon? This space is bigger than some cities, but it's weeks away from the nearest cathedral! There's no way they could've mapped out each and every one of these ruins... Is each of them supposed to have a different key? Quests, equipment, monsters-impossible. That's not a game, anymore, that's an entire world... An entirely new world..." Wander broke off. He had reached the bottom of the chamber.

On first impression, the door before him seemed entirely unimpressive. A drab white, it was marked only by an indentation, which Wander identified as the proper keyhole, at last. It was upon unlocking it that he realized the entire door was made of the same dragon bone as the key. It glided open, swallowing the key and ushering Wander to the chamber beyond. It slammed behind him with a menacing finality.

He found the source of the blue light. Set point-down into the unsettlingly even stone floor, a cerulean crystal sword, shining evenly through the surrounding space, shimmered invitingly in his direction. Seated placidly next to it was a carven stone wolf, gazing towards his position with an oddly benevolent stone eyes. Wander half expected it to attack him on sight, but it just watched him, for all appearances just a statue.

So, this was the treasure worth questing through hundreds of miles and a raid boss for. It certainly looked impressive, this beautiful, glimmering blade. A proper longsword, artfully simple, yet wonderfully practical. Obviously magical, somehow, but it felt as sturdy as Ironsides in full regalia. Quite a sword...

"But useless for a monk. I can't use stuff like this! Is there any other treasure down here?..." Wander glanced around the chamber, but there was truly nothing besides the patient wolf and the dragonbone doorway. Actually, that gave him a discomforting thought.

"If I'd been doing things right, I would have brought an entire guild to fight that dragon. But there's only one key, and one sword. How would they decide who got the rewards?"

Wander checked his menu. In the corner was a small message: "You have now entered an open-combat zone..."

It was too much to contemplate. Without any more hesitation, and still thinking about the blood that would have been shed, Wander took hold of the sword and pulled.

**"A secret quest, 'Arcana,' has been activated. Will you accept?"**

Wander grinned. He knew there had been something more to it. Weeks of journeying, a terrifying dragon, and secret treasure beneath the halls of Armageddon-all leading up to this.

**"WARNING: Accepting this quest will change your class to "Arcanist." This will override all previous class progress, and reset your character profile. Are you sure you would like to continue?"**

"Yes. Wait, what do you mean, reset? Hold on-" But it was too late. The stone wolf softly smiled, and everything burst into light.

The last thing he could remember was a final message: **"Welcome to Elder Tales. Your world awaits..."**

* * *

_BAM! Mysterious voices and mystic chambers! WHAT JUST HAPPENED? I DON'T KNOW!_

_I hope you'll all forgive me for the too-convenient way I handled the raid boss. I know I kinda set it up as this huge deal, and then it just kinda died, but it really was only there to highlight Wander as a character, as well as underscore the importance of Tel Megiddo. Which is a real place, by the way, and one that I've seen from the window of a bus. It's pretty cool on its own, but even cooler when you consider it as Armageddon, the supposed location of the end of the world._

_As for the ruins themselves, I just kinda thought it would be cooler that way. Though each of the other doors suggests another quest, I haven't decided if that's going to factor in later in the story yet. The implication, of course, with the single treasure is that the entire party would have to duel it out, with the losers getting sent to the cathedral and the winner taking the Arcana way out._

_Anyway, I don't have a metaphysical rant for you today, but I do have a bonus chapter! This was how I originally planned to start this chapter, but I felt it dragged out too long, and spent too much time on characters I wasn't planning on introducing properly until later. Nonetheless, it can be considered "canon." Whatever that means in a fanfiction._

* * *

_Bonus Lv. 2.5: Upon Arrival_

He had always loved the idea of travel. As a child, he would stare at maps of the world, imagining that moment when one's foot at last made contact with ground you knew nothing about, under a sky that no member of your civilization had ever seen. Explorers, he knew, sought fame and wealth, often razing the new land and attempting to build their old one atop its bones. He didn't want fame or wealth. To see for the sake of seeing, to know for the sake of knowing-that was the only thing that mattered. He desired to wander.

That's why, when it came time to select a name for his Elder Tales account, Wander was the name he chose. Perhaps he didn't have the money to see the world around him, but he was certainly able to wander through the world inside his monitor.

His reaction, therefore, to the Apocalypse, was simple enough to understand.

"WHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAH!"

"...nnnnnn."

"WHOAH, YOU GUYS WAKE UP NOW!"

"...No, mom, I don't want to go to school..."

"WHOAH, YOU GUYS NEED TO WAKE UP AND SEE THIS! I'M FREAKING OUT!"

"God-dammit, SHUT UP-Oh. Oh, shit." Ironsides and Lovespotions were just waking up, but Wander had already taken across the field towards Tel Megiddo. Beyond it, hills sloped towards the distant desert, where they heard the rumble of an island tortoise stomping disinterestedly towards... Wherever island tortoises stomp to. They were exactly where they had left off... In Elder Tales.

After a stunned silence, filled only by Wander's inane hollering and some peculiar birds, Lovespotions turned to Ironsides.

"Dude."

"Yeah?"

"I need you to punch me in the face."

"Right now?"

"Right now."

The crack of gauntlet meeting face, and the resultant howling, was enough to stop Wander in his tracks, and he raced back to his erstwhile party members.

"What are you guys doing!?" Wander shouted, utterly bewildered at the state of his two friends.

"He asked me to punch him," Ironsides stated. "So I punched him." A heavily-clad, imposing figure, Ironsides was an affable Guardian who preferred to keep things simple. In fact, he had deciphered and put to previously-unheard of use the fortune teller subclass, easily untangling its twisted prophecies into timely hints and quest recommendations.

Lovespotions cut in to defend him. "Sorry about that, but I did ask him to punch me." He pushed himself off the ground and began to cast a healing spell. "Just wanted to see if it would wake me up from this nightmare I'm having. Which," he added, "It clearly didn't." Lovespotions, as ever acting the scientist, had dedicated his player experience to alchemy, and was even rumored to be able to brew EXP potions, though Wander had never seen him do it. A Druid, he restored teammates and provided magical cover fire, complementing low MP with an inexhaustible supply of mana potions. "We could try and wish ourselves awake, but I think that would just be dragging it out."

"We're definitely awake." Wander's teammates groaned, looking around at their all-too real surroundings. Wander watched as they began poking at invisible buttons, then realized that they had somehow accessed their menus. He attempted to stop them.

"Come on, guys, don't you get it? We came all this way to see this place through a monitor, and we ended up being there in person! I don't get you could be so glum?"

Ironsides stared at him balefully. "We didn't all come here to sightsee. I just wanted some nice, virtual treasure, a cool sword, and a nice popover. How the hell am I supposed to get a popover in the middle of Elder Tales?"

"I'm with Ironsides on this one." Lovespotions shrugged apologetically. "At the end of my plan was a soft bed, and soft beds aren't exactly available to us here. I'm fascinated by this whole situation, mind you, but I think we need to regroup somewhere and reconsider our options at this point."

"But," Wander protested, "It's _right there!_ Who knows how long it's going to be before we get this kind of chance again?"

"Look, hold on to the potions for us, yeah? We'll be right back. _Return Home!_"

And they were gone. Just Wander and a small mountain of potions. Frustrated, he loaded them into his inventory and began jogging in the direction of the city.

* * *

_P.S. This marks the end of my original notes. Due to a changing schedule, I'll have AP Econ instead of my office TA period this coming semester, which means a lot less time with the typewriter. Nonetheless, I'll do what I can, and hopefully have the next chapter out soon!_

_~Forkive_


End file.
